Tender Madness
by Alexandria K
Summary: After traveling to Knowhere following a foreboding transmission, Gamora finds herself in the company of her old acquaintance, the Collector.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This pairing has been floating around in my head for months. They don't seem to be particularly popular, but they makes perfect sense in my head. Rated M for sexual content in upcoming chapters. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think._

* * *

_01_

* * *

"Gamora, you got a transmission."

The little genetically engineered raccoon sauntered unapologetically into Peter's sleeping compartment to find Gamora and Peter engrossed in conversation. The pair glanced briefly from where they sat on the floor of the _Milano_ before returning to their discussion. Quill was in the midst telling Gamora another fascinating story about Earth's pop culture.

"Just a moment Rocket," she replied, placing a finger in the air to silence him. "Now Peter, I don't understand. How did their singing and dancing fuel this "Greased Lightning" to levitate from Earth? You cannot sustain a ship with sound. They're just vibrations. Waves that propagate through a medium. It makes no sense."

Peter sighed, scratching his temple. Explaining Earth concepts to Gamora was often akin to making a metaphorical joke to Drax. Nonetheless, her reactions to his stories always left him amused, and Gamora herself enjoyed hearing his strange tales.

"It wasn't just the dancing and singing." He smirked leaning in close to her. "It was love."

A smile teased her verdian lips as she narrowed her eyes playfully at him, replying, "That, Peter Quill, is utterly unbelievable. I much prefer the legend of Kevin Bacon. He was far more valiant."

With a groan, Rocket ambled up to the duo and plopped the transreceiver on Gamora's lap. She looked down at it with surprise, not having heard the little mammal walk up behind her. The device was flashing wildly, indicating she had an incoming call.

"Thanks Rocket." Flipping the receiver over, she checked the transmission ID. It read Anonymous. "Peter, do you think I could have a moment to take this?"

"Not a problem," he quickly returned, hurrying to the doorway with Rocket by his side. "Oh! I got another good one for you when you're finished. It's called the tale of _West Side Story_." With a quick wink he left the room leaving her in silence.

Gamora could not help but smile to herself once she was alone. Peter was a strange Terran, and incredibly goofy, but she felt closer to him than any of her other shipmates. In fact, how she viewed Peter was in a category all together separate from the others. That was not a fact she necessarily liked acknowledging, but it could hardly be overlooked with how much time they were spending together lately.

Sighing, she opened her transreceiver. There were not many who knew her private frequency, so she was curious as to who was calling her. For a moment the transmission screen was black, but after several seconds of establishing a connection, an image formed. Gamora's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"My dear Gamora." A subtle smile ghosted across the man's lips. "Hello again."

She found herself at a loss for words as she absorbed the image before her, her mouth parting in silent shock. Uncertainly, she whispered his name.

"Tivan?"

The black mark on his lower lip curved as his grin grew.

"The one and only, my lady."

Nearly a year had passed since she last exchanged words with Taneleer. The day their ragtag team presented him with the orb on Knowhere was the last time the two had spoken. She could hardly fathom the reason he was calling upon her now.

"I know my call is unexpected," he purred, his smirk fading. "But the matter is urgent, so I will be to the point. I require your presence here, on Knowhere."

"My presence on Knowhere?" She repeated in a baffled tone. "Why, exactly?"

Glancing from the screen, his expression grew grave. Absently, he drew a few tendrils of his platinum locks around a finger as he spoke.

"I don't feel it is safe to disclose the details over a transmission. We need to speak face-to-face." Before she could protest, he fixed her with a serious glance. "I will tell you this much, however. It concerns the fate of the universe."

Tilting her head to the side, she knitted her brow and whispered, "Are people in danger?"

He nodded slowly, his heavily hooded eyes following her in motion with his chin.

"You want our help then?"

"No," he snapped suddenly, startling her. "I want _your _help."

"Mine...? That's absurd, why -"

"I've said enough," he grumbled, sitting back. "I expect your presence on Knowhere within the next several days. _Alone_."

The transmission cut out before she could say another word.

It was in Tivan's style to leave a cryptic message. Under different circumstances she would have completely dismissed it, but given the content of his transmission she could not so easily sweep his message under the rug. To have not spoken to him in well over a year, only to receive such a brief and urgent call unnerved her.

"_I will tell you this much, however. It concerns the fate of the universe."_

The words haunted her as she gazed at the empty transreceiver. If going to Knowhere meant she could save the lives of innocent creatures, Gamora would willingly travel to his lair. Still, there was no way of knowing what Taneleer was playing at by asking her to come alone. The odd request would have been unbelievable if not for his tone. Something about his voice told her he was speaking the truth.

"Gamora." Peter's voice tore her from her thoughts. As engrossed as she was in her ruminations, she had not heard him come in. "Tell me you're not seriously considering going to Knowhere."

"You were listening to my transmission?" She asked, slightly insulted.

"I didn't mean to," he muttered apologetically. "But, come on, you can't trust that kleptomaniac. I mean, you remember don't you, the guy wanted to turn Groot into an armoire! He's a nut job."

Shifting away from him, she let out a frustrated huff. Quill's eavesdropping had peeved her.

"You don't know a thing about Taneleer Tivan, Peter." She captured his gaze again briefly, her brown eyes blazing. "You don't know what he _is_. I don't trust him. Not for a long shot. But if he says the universe is in danger, I won't take it lightly."

While it was true Tivan appeared as little more than an eccentric with too much time and money on his hands, there was more to him than met the eye. In fact, it was upon the _Dark Asther _that Gamora first learned of the Collector's existence. Consequently, it was also how she came to strike an eventual deal with him regarding the orb. She recalled the very words as they fell from Ronan's mouth that night.

"_But there _is _one who could pose a threat to you Thanos." Ronan bellowed through the murky darkness. _

_The Mad Titan chuckled, voice brimming with amusement._

"_Taneleer Tivan?" _

"_The great Collector," Ronan rejoined, his voice baritone. "He is one of the Elders of the Universe, is he not? Older than you, Thanos. Arguably more powerful." _

_A sudden roar of laughter echoed throughout the chamber. _

"_Old and powerful he may be, but he is equally as deluded. Tivan lost his way long ago. Once I might have feared him, but now he is nothing more than a simple-minded hoarder. He is no threat to me, boy."_

The notion of another sentient more powerful than Thanos intrigued Gamora immensely. For her entire life, she was lead to believe there were none more great and deadly than the Mad Titan. Knowing there _was_ one who could match or supersede her maniacal father fascinated her. Later, upon learning of Ronan's intentions regarding Xandar, she could think of no one more suited to receive the orb. If he truly were an Elder of Universe, he could easily conceal the artifact, or so she thought.

"Alright." Peter paced the small compartment impatiently, his hands anchored on his hips. "Well, what I do know is the man is a weirdo, and you're not going there alone."

The look Gamora shot Quill made him bite his tongue.

"You will _not _tell me what I can and cannot do Peter Quill!" Marching past him, she set her sights on the exit of the room. "You seem to forget who exactly I am!"

Before she could bound through the door, he arrested one of her emrald wrists in his hand.

"Fine, fine. We'll drop you off at Knowhere. Then, come pick you up when you're –"

"No!" She interrupted abruptly, twisting in his grasp. "I'll take myself to Knowhere."

Peter's expression immediately sharpened. With a sudden jerk, he pulled her backwards and captured her in his arms. Circling one arm around her slender waist, he positioned her head in the crook of his neck.

"Gamora," he breathed heavily into her ear. "If I insulted you, I'm sorry. Please...don't be like this."

His lips so near to the base of her ear made her shiver.

"Peter, I'm going alone." As he drew his fingers over the bare skin of her mid drift, caressing her softly, she nearly gasped. "I need my independence back. I need remember who I _am_ -" A an abrupt moan left her lips as his mouth careened the flesh of her neck. "I...need to get away from you."

"Are you sure that's what you want?" He whispered, teeth grazing the base of her neck.

In fact, it was not what she wanted, and that very truth agitated her. She did not _want _to go to Knowhere. She wanted to stay there, on the _Milano_, with Quill and her friends. What she needed, however, was to get away from him. With each passing day she was falling deeper under the Terran's spell. His touch had become more frequent, and she had come to not only expect it, but welcome it. In his proximity her mind grew foggy. What she needed was clarity.

Releasing herself from his grasp, she took several steps forward before breaking their momentary silence.

"Take me to the moon of Pyrus. We're close, and I can rent a ship there. Tivan will transfer me the credits."

The look on Peter's face almost broke her resolve. His expression was wounded.

"You don't have to run from this Gamora."

She held his gaze for several moments before turning away.

"Yes. I do."

* * *

_To be continued...?_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Glad to see a few of you have taken interest in this story. Keep the feedback coming guys, and enjoy. _

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_02_

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With a sigh, Gamora reclined in the seat of her temporary vessel.

She was weary, but unable to sleep. Thoughts of Peter plagued her mind. The somber expression he wore as her transport vessel descended from the _Milano_ ate at her. He had fought valiantly to stop her from leaving. It was a gesture she was not entirely sure how to interpret. On one hand, she saw his opposition as a sign of utter disrespect. On the other, a symbol of his affection for her.

When she was able to push the memories of her forlorn Terran aside, another source of anxiety surfaced.

What exactly awaited her on Knowhere? What kind of threat was the universe facing now?

_And, most importantly, _she thought, gazing steadily at the Celestial head coming into view before her. _Is this just some kind of trap? _

She did not trust Taneleer, but could conceive no reason for a betrayal on his part. Still, she intended on keeping her guard firm. The Collector was an Elder. He preceded her by millennia. With his age came great knowledge, intelligence, and cunning. To show weakness in his wake would be foolish on multiple levels.

Weaving her ship through the expanse of the mining colony, Gamora caught sight of Tivan's familiar residence on the horizon. It was larger and more choice than most on Knowhere, its size alone eclipsing the surrounding buildings. Like a beacon in the distance, it drew her closer. She had been instructed to land in his docking station, and was pleased to find it open and ready for her arrival. There would be no waiting in the chaotic mess of the adjacent bar, the Boot of Jemiah, this time.

Descending into the holding bank, she landed in the spacious port. While she felt anxious to be in his bearings alone, she was eager to leave her vessel. The trip from Pyrus to Knowhere had been lengthy and her limbs ached from the flight. Being free of the craft nearly brought a smile to her lips, but the sound of footsteps in the distance arrested it.

"Mistress Gamora," a voiced echoed.

Turning, the olive-skinned beauty caught sight of an approaching woman with coral skin. It was unmistakably a Krylorian. A slave of Taneleer's. The woman was fashioned much like his previous attendant. Secretly, she wondered just how many poor Krylorian women Tivan had burnt through over the decades.

"My master waits for you in the main hall. Do come."

With a curtsey the woman turned and teetered out of the docking station. Gamora followed close behind, noting with interest that the interior of his repository was no longer a shambled mess. The damage the Infinity Stone had wrought on his dwelling was seemingly repaired. Many of his artifacts, both animate and inanimate, were once again in their exhibition cases. The main hall, restored as it was, was much as she remembered it.

Even Tivan looked unchanged.

He stood motionlessly on the far side of the foyer. scrutinizing a large piece of parchment. Naturally, he was clothed in an eccentric garb. Furs and expensive fabrics littered with curious patterns embellished his cloak. He was a bizarre spectacle to behold.

Noticing the movement in the room, the Collector glanced up with interest and raised his brow. Removing his thick spectacles, he sauntered towards them idly, the lengthy layers of his embellished fabric swinging gently as he approached. She observed his movements with caution. The room surrounding her suddenly felt more small, and she more breathless the closer he converged.

"My, my," he muttered, closing the distance between them. "Gamora, my dear."

Bowing his head, he captured one of her hands and lifted it to his lips. His kiss was firm and lingered longer than made her comfortable. A subtle grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he gauged her reaction beneath his heavy lids. Languidly, he trailed his mouth from the center of her hand down to the tips of her fingers, releasing her softly as his lips met their end.

"I've said it once before Tivan, but your formalities are unnecessary." Slightly flustered, Gamora crossed her arms against her chest and raised her chin firmly. "I want explanations and I want them now."

A gruff, hollow laugh issued forth from his chest at her apparent agitation.

"What the lady wants, the lady gets," he sang, amusement visible on his beige visage. "What does the lady want to know?"

"Tivan, do not play games with me," she nearly growled. "I did not travel all the way from Pyrus to entertain your quips. Tell me _why_ I'm here."

"Of course, of course." He sighed, motioning to a chair. "Then you must sit, Gamora. There is much to tell."

Gingerly, she obeyed, seating herself before him and showering him with a gloomy pout.

"It all started long ago, during the reign of the Eternals." He settled himself opposite of her, intently monitoring her features as he spoke. "There existed two brothers, Kronos and Quandros. Both men were powerful and renown, but Kronos surpassed his sibling in every way. You see, envy drove the lesser brother insane. His spite wrought a need within for power and control. In jealousy, he plotted to kill his brother and absorb his strength. However, before Quandros could follow through with this plan, a vision of betrayal struck Kronos. Knowing he could not bear to to kill his own blood and stop him, Kronos did something drastic. He concentrated all his power into his most mighty weapon, the Xiphos, killing himself in the process."

"The Xiphos?" Gamora echoed, eyes softening slightly. "The Xihpos of Kronos Tassarion?"

Taneleer grinned.

"You have heard of it?"

"Once, a long time ago, but..." She looked away from him in confusion. "The existence of that weapon is mere legend. Besides, they say it is –"

"Lost?" He finished, raising his platinum brow. "And so it was, for before Kronos died he cast the sword deep into the depths of the universe to hide it from his brother. It was never found again."

"Until now," she rejoined, studying him with puzzled eyes. "But, by whom?

"A primitive race. They live on a planet called Mo'krak on the fringe of the universe. Their species is yet evolving and cannot comprehend what it is they possess. They keep it hidden in a shrine of worship, but nothing more. Unfortunately, the weapon has garnered the attention of..._others_, besides I."

For a moment Gamora sat in silence. If what little she knew of Xiphos was true, it was indeed a terrifying artifact. One that would best be kept hidden away.

"This weapon can kill in a single strike, can't it?"

"It can melt the very skin from your bones with a solitary blow. Reduce you to a pile tissue and blood with a touch." As he spoke, his monotone voice grew deeper and more fanatic. "For a more powerful user, it could burn the flesh from every organic creature on a planet."

Gamora started at his last sentence.

"An entire planet?" She murmured, nearly breathless.

Taking a step towards her, he leaned in close, whispering softly, "An _entire_ planet."

The idea of another artifact existing with such power made her feel ill. She could hardly bear the thought of a weapon of such magnitude falling into the wrong hands. The very notion incited memories of the Infinity Stone and Ronan's lust for the destruction of Xandar. It also reminded her of her own species' annihilation at the hands of Thanos. With these memories came a deep pang of sadness.

"Why should I trust you with such a powerful weapon?" She asked quietly, trying to settle her emotions. "Something this deadly would be safer in the hands of the Nova Corps."

Licking his lips, Tivan smiled icily at her beneath his heavily-hooded eyes.

"You need not worry Gamora. If I desired to burn a race of sentients from existence, I would have done so already. I want the Xiphos for my collection. That is all. It will be just as safe in my possession as in the hands of your intergalactic watch dogs."

She knew he spoke the truth. There were likely hundreds of lethal relics in Tivan's care. She could only imagine how many deadly artifacts he had amassed throughout the millennia.

"Fine, but answer me this – why do you need _me_ to retrieve it for you? Why did you forbid my friends from accompanying me here?"

"We have worked together before," he answered nonchalantly. "As for those idiots align yourself with, I don't trust them with such sensitive information. They're not like you, Gamora." Approaching her, he arrested a strand of her hair between his fingers, pulling at it softly before releasing it. "They lack your...morality."

Recoiling from his touch, she sighed and swept a hand through her dark tresses. Whether Tivan was aware of it or not, he was playing upon her weaknesses. His was an offer she could not refuse. Gamora's scathing past made it impossible for her to overlook the ordeal laid before her. She would never allow another race to perish the way her own had. It was an easy decision.

"I accept your mission."

Tivan's hazel eyes widened momentarily before melting into a semblance of pleasure. Dramatically, he bowed before her, extending his arms to his side whilst twirling his wrists.

"Oh, _Gamora_, a wise choice. A wise choice indeed."

"I hope it is," she warned, crossing her slender arms across her chest.

"You will be compensated for your efforts, of course," his sullen voice droned. "I hope sixty thousand units sounds...reasonable."

In truth, for the work she was agreeing to do, the amount sounded feeble. Still, she would have settled for less. This was not a mission she was completing for the sake of units. Instead, a sense of duty drove her. She nodded curtly in agreement.

"Beautiful!" He sang, twirling round as a raspy chuckle erupted from his chest.

As she watched his extravagant display, the weight of her fatigue resurfaced abruptly. Her body still ached from her long journey and sleep gnawed relentlessly at the back of her consciousness, begging for admittance. She needed rest. Not only physically, but mentally. Her mind hungered for a much needed repose. Tivan's words had spurred hundreds of unsettling thoughts, and she lacked the mental strength to tackle them at present.

"Since we've settled the basics, I hope you won't mind if I retire. We can negotiate the specifics in the morning."

Turning from him, Gamora started down the path she and his Krylorian entered upon her landing, but stopped at the sound of heavy foot steps echoing behind her at an alarming pace. Before she could turn her curious gaze, Tivan stood before her, obstructing her path.

"Might I ask where you're going?" He questioned, his golden brow lifted.

Gamora's mouth grew tight. She tried to conceal her annoyance for sake of civility.

"My ship," she answered evenly.

"Unnecessary. We've prepared a room for you near my living quarters."

Gamora exhaled audibly. There was little more off putting than idea of spending her stay on Knowhere in Tivan's lair. With chagrin, she gazed at the eerie exhibition capsules above them. Many of the creatures stared quietly at her from behind their encasements. Those that were sentient and could comprehend their language seemed to watch with a glint of interest.

"My ship will do," she muttered dismissively, trying to side step him.

Her attempt was abruptly met with his looming physique once more. Glancing up at him, she found his countenance sullen. His dank features regarded her with a chilly air.

"My lady, as your host I simply could not allow that."

The subtle edge in his voice was enough to soften her opposition. In a less fatigued state, she would have pushed him further. However, as tired as she was, she lacked the will to argue. Sighing in defeat, she took a step back from his uncomfortable proximity

"_Fine_, I'll stay here."

A satisfied smirk curved his lips.

"Margery!" With a wave of his long fingers, embellished queerly with various rings, the Krylorian approached them. "Show Gamora to her room. Make sure she is comfortable." Turning his attention back to the olive-skinned assassin, he continued, "She will bring you your things shortly."

With a terse nod, Gamora turned from her persistent host and trailed behind the woman.

_Finally_, she thought, as she followed his attendant through the bulk of menagerie.

She was glad to be free of him.

Tivan was overbearing. Being alone is his company made her anxious. More anxious than she had expected. She attributed the feeling to the absence of her companions. The five of them were so acclimated to being together that acting singularly often felt foreign. Gamora derived peace of mind from knowing Peter, Drax, Rocket, or Groot were nearby if anything were to go awry. Without them she felt exposed. Vulnerable.

_Which is exactly why this is good for me_, she mused. _My dependence on my friends has made me weak. _

"Mistress Gamora," his servant called suddenly. "We are here."

As if waking from a trance, she surveyed her surroundings with interest. They appeared to be, from what she could discern, in a normal looking dwelling. The floors were made of tile, the walls bore a deep maroon, and furniture was tastefully situated throughout. Most shocking of all, there were no specimens to behold.

"Where _are_ we?" She questioned, her pretty features masked in confusion.

"In the south wing, my lady. My master's living quarters."

"Living quarters?" She echoed, remembering his words.

The area was, to her amusement, decorated much in Taneleer's style. Large paintings garnished the walls, and upon every table sat a vase with large, beautiful flowers. The furniture was a dark burnished wood that complimented the maroon. Much like Tivan himself, the composition was altogether dramatic.

"Yes, lady Gamora, and this is your room."

Opening the door, the two entered the accommodations. It was decorated much like the main foyer, the color scheme consistent. A large bed sat in the room's center along with an adjacent nightstand. Other bedroom apparel such as a closet, dresser, and small desk were also present. On the far side of the room was another door.

"Not bad," she whispered, eying the bed with fatigue, her lust for sleep mounting.

"My master will be glad to hear you are pleased. If you require anything further, water, blankets, towels, please alert me. Your personal lavatory is over there," she cooed, pointing the closed door. "I will be back with your belongings shortly."

With a final curtsey the Krylorian exited the chamber, her pigtails bouncing in motion with her gait.

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_To be continued...?_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N**: Hey! I want to say thank you for alerting me about the person who stole and re-posted my story. I hope it will get removed :(. On a lighter note, so glad everyone is enjoying this pairing still! I'm having a lot of fun writing these two together. I hope you enjoy this chapter._

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_03_

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Gamora relished the feeling of the soft comforter beneath her body. It was heaven compared to the small bunk she made use of on her rental craft. Tossing in the large bed, she opened one of the bags Margery delivered to her from the vessel. The first thing she noticed was her trans-receiver. She opened it, her chest tightening as she noted the missed transmissions.

_Peter Quill – (6:02:27)_

_Peter Quill – (6:59:15)_

_Peter Quill – (8:02:36)_

Pinching her brow, Gamora tossed the device back into the bag. She was too exhausted at present to contact Quill. Although she felt guilty, she could not will herself return the transmissions. Far too much had happened since her landing on Knowhere, and knowing Peter and the rest of her crew, they would demand a full report of the situation. The mere thought of explaining the nature of the Xiphos to her four companions made her weary. A return message would have to wait till the morning.

Yawning weakly, Gamora began the task of removing her travel clothes. The more fatigued she became, the tighter her leather attire felt against her skin. She desperately wanted to shimmy out of the suffocating outfit and drift to sleep. Rummaging through her bag, she searched for the tank top she often wore to bed only to find Peter's familiar cassette player. Inside the device was a tape labeled _A__wesome Mix Vol. 1_.

Pulling the headphones over her ears, she hit the play button.

"_I must have been through about a million girls_

_I'd love 'em then I'd leave 'em alone_

_I didn't care how much they cried, no sir_

_Their tears left me cold as a stone_

_But then I fooled around and fell in love_

_I fooled around and fell in love, yes I did..."_

A smile stole across her lips as she listened.

Peter.

He must have stashed the cassette player in her bag while she was in the midst of packing. The melody always reminded her of the evening the two spent on Knowhere nearly a year ago. As she lay there, the Terran's tune slowly lulling her to sleep, she slipped off the remainder of her clothing and slid the tank top on her body. A quick flick of the light switch near the nightstand propelled the room into sudden darkness. Before long, the green-skinned beauty was fast asleep.

Gamora's dreams were tame at first.

She stood aboard the _Milano_ alone, the whereabouts of her companions unknown. Above her, the cabin lights flickered spasmodically, casting the flight deck into sudden bouts of utter blackness. The oscillation of the lights was disorienting, and tried as she might to find the backup electricity hull, she could not. The apparatus had seemingly vanished.

With a sudden, deafening _pop_, every light aboard the ship fizzled out.

The darkness was thick and murky. As she reached into the blackness, cautiously feeling her surroundings, a large hand arrested her searching limb. She cried out as the unknown being flung her upon the cool metal floor. She struck the deck harshly, her back throbbing at the impact. Before she could scramble away, her assailant pinned her tightly against the ground, the massive hand crushing her wrists beneath their own.

"_Beloved daughter_," the familiar voice bellowed. "_How _dare_ you shame me_."

The grip on her wrists tightened until the bones in her cybernetically enhanced limbs snapped.

Gamora bolted upright.

The silence in the room was deafening. Peter's tape had long since finished its compilation of songs. She trembled slightly in the darkness, her body coated in a thin layer of cold sweat. Wiping the wetness from her brow, she peered into inky blackness of the room, exhaling shaky breaths.

This was not the first dream she had of Thanos, nor would it be the last.

The Mad Titan often invaded her dreams, turning them to bloody nightmares. Most were brutal. More brutal than the terror she just experienced. Though it was comparably tame, the ghostly pain that lingered on her wrists still left her shaken. While these visions of her estranged father were not uncommon, the frequency with which they occurred was steadily increasing. Gamora hoped the phenomenon owed no explanation.

As she mused over the unpleasant nightmare, a light rapping at her door became audible.

Immediately, she sat upright. A sudden awareness of her surroundings began to dawn on her. She composed herself with haste and slipped out of the large, foreign bed. Conscious of her bare legs, she fumbled in the darkness for a pair of spandex pants before making her way to the door.

"Who's there?" She asked, slipping the on the black bottoms as she spoke.

Silence followed her inquiry.

Sighing to herself, she combed briefly through her dark tresses and adjusted her sleeveless top before opening the door.

"Ah," Tivan purred as the door swung ajar. "I hope I did not wake you Gamora."

Taneleer stood reclined against the wall opposite of her doorway. The embellished robe seemingly discarded, he wore only a well-fitted silken tunic. Its onyx fabric glittered iridescently beneath the light of the hallway. In his right hand were two tulip glasses. Both were filled to the brim with a clear liquid. Gamora observed him cautiously behind the door frame before stepping out into the hall.

"No, you didn't wake me," she murmured, crossing her arms against her chest. "What do you want?"

Smirking, he drew himself away form the wall and took several steps towards her.

"I wished to inquire whether or not you would be interested in joining me. For a drink."

Tivan raised one of the glasses in the air before presenting it to her. She stared it for several moments, shifting her gaze from the glass to Tivan. His hazel eyes revealed little regarding his intentions. Still, Gamora knew the offer was anything but a friendly invitation. Tivan was a business man, and for such a person interactions were not had for the sake of enjoyment. There was always something to be gained.

Reaching forward slowly, she took the glass from his long fingers. Swirling the neck between her thumb and forefinger, she extended her arm suddenly and held the rim to his lips. He stared at her with surprise, understanding evolving slowly across his languid features.

"You think I mean to poison you?" Gamora said nothing, but kept the glass pressed firmly to the base of his tattooed lip. "Very well."

Tivan seized the neck of the glass, clutching her own hand in the process, and pressed the rim to his mouth. His eyes never left hers as she sipped down the contents. Despite several fortuitous tugs on her part, he did not loosen his hold until the entire glass was drained. As she drew her arm back, he abruptly caught it once more, pulling her slight body to the base of his chest. This time, with a softer touch.

"I do hope you trust me now," he muttered. "My intentions are not to harm you. We are allies."

His grip around her arm slackened, and she drew her arrested limb back to her side with a wary eye.

"Perhaps for now," she mouthed inaudibly, following him closely as he disappeared into the parlor.

* * *

The room was quaint and dimly lit. Tivan's sullen voice filled the air of the empty chamber as he spoke. She listened passively, busying herself instead with the couch below. With her fingers, she navigated across the plush material, tracing its pattern with the tips of her nails.

"Gamora," Tivan called suddenly, interrupting her focus. "Another glass?"

She quickly declined, shaking her head at his inquiry. The wine was potent. Its effects were slowly ebbing away at her composure. The more she felt herself slip, the harder she concentrated on intricate design.

"It seems two was more than enough."

Taneleer grinned, picking up the bottle and pouring several more ounces into his empty glass.

"You don't drink much, do you?"

"No – nothing like _that_ at least."

"_This?_" He asked, motioning towards the bottle. "_This_ the white wine of Mahrdrois."

"Then it makes perfect sense," she replied, crossing her legs. "The most notorious drunkards in the galaxy would make the strongest liquor."

"And the _finest_, my dear."

Gamora sighed, staring at him briefly beneath her dark lashes. The pair had spent the last half an hour discussing trivial matters. The conversation had been light. Too light. She doubted he cared much about her treacherously long flight from Pyrus, or any other minute details he inquired about. His polite etiquette left her frustrated. With so many more pressing matters at hand – the Xiphos, the fate of the universe – conversing about wine seemed frivolous.

"Tivan," she snapped suddenly, catching him slightly off guard. "Why did you _really_ call on me?"

The Collector reclined into his arm chair, his gaze falling to the floor before ascending back to her.

"Straight to business as always, Gamora?" She nodded in response, an expectant look upon her features. "You sounded distressed. I heard you from the parlor. "

Her sable eyes widened momentarily.

"Distressed?"

"Yes, I believe you were...screaming."

She paused for a moment.

"Screaming? I-I must have been asleep."

"Presumably so," he replied, leaning forward.

Gamora took a deep breath, angling her face from Tivan to hide her expression.

Often when she dreamed of Thanos she became vocal. Her shipmates had, on several occasions, woke her from the depths of an unpleasant nightmare. While Peter and Drax were the only two persistent enough to coax the source of the terrors out of her, they had quickly relayed the information to Rocket and Groot. It was a touchy subject, and all four erred with caution when uttering name _Thanos_ around Gamora as of late.

Swallowing down her embarrassment, she donned her steeliest look of confidence.

"I must have had a very exciting dream," she stated nonchalantly, shrugging her slender shoulders."But thank you for your concern."

"Oh, Gamora, but it wasn't excitement I heard. It was _fear_."

She raised her eyes to his immediately. Something in his tone caught her off guard. She felt dizzy.

"No, it's not that I... I think it's time I returned to my room."

Without pause she quitted the couch. She could not face Tivan. Not in her present state. She felt vulnerable and weak. Her true feelings had become impossible to mask. The alcohol left her a swirling mess of emotion. It clouded her vision, made her mind swim. Images of Thanos looped repeatedly though her head as she stumbled towards the exit of the parlor. It was the sudden, distinct feeling of Taneleer's hand on her upper arm that arrested her movement.

"What is it, Gamora?" Tivan's languid voice mumbled suddenly near her ear. "What does the most deadly woman in the entire galaxy fear?"

Her breath caught in her chest.

_Hold it together_, her mind pleaded. _Just hold it together._

"Perhaps, your father?"

An audible gasp escaped her lips.

She turned to face him abruptly, shock coloring her visage. As she gazed into his archaic eyes, every muscle in her body tightened. He knew. Her legs began to tremble, and before long her knees gave way beneath her. Tivan caught her by the waist before she could collapse. With one arm snaked around her waist, he moved her to a nearby wall, propping her against its surface for support.

"How?" She asked, her voice a near whisper. "How did you know?"

A gruff laugh slipped through his tawny lips.

"You are more transparent than you believe yourself to be." Resting his palms on either side of her, he leaned in close. The distinct scent of his cologne settled in her nose. "Your history with Thanos is no secret Gamora. What you are – what he made you – is visible to all. Your fear even more so."

Swallowing hard, she gazed up into his languid features.

"I am not afraid."

Tivan drew his face closer, eying her intensely beneath the arch of his platinum brows.

"But you _are_. You wronged him. Now you fear the inevitable." Gamora turned her face from his, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "What will you do when he comes for you?" He breathed into her ear. "When you find you can no longer run or hide?"

"I-I don't know," she whispered, silently cursing her own lips. "I cannot escape him."

"_Think_, Gamora!" Tivan uttered quietly, breaking their momentary silence. "Why did you arrange to bring me the orb?"

Her brow ruffled as she stared into his heavily-lidded eyes.

"What?"

"_Why_ did you agree to deliver the orb to me?" He asked again, evenly.

"I knew you could keep it safe. I knew he would not come here. I –" A puzzle piece clicked into place. She squinted at him in disbelief. "You... Are you saying?"

"Thanos will not come to Knowhere, Gamora. You know this as well as I."

"He fears you," she cut in, her chestnut eyes still filled with surprise.

"To some degree. He knows I am a formidable foe." Moving back slightly, Tivan raised his hand and cupped the curve of her emerald cheek. "I can protect you."

The audacity of his words left her stunned.

She knew it was true. He _could_ protect her. Her value to Thanos was not enough to warrant a confrontation with Taneleer Tivan. Under his protection there was a chance she would survive if ever the Mad Titan decided to seek revenge. Still, the very notion of Tivan's offering was entirely unbelievable. The gesture was startling, and left her nearly wordless.

"I don't understand," she breathed, gazing up at his imposing physique.

Tivan smirked and drew his lengthy palm down the flesh of her cheek. His fingers settled gently near the curve of her shoulder.

"You see, Gamora," he purred, skimming the side of her ribcage. "Every sentient in the galaxy knows you cannot take something that belongs to me." Leaning forward, he gently pressed his lips to the base of her neck. The sensation drew a sharp gasp from her lips. "If you became part of my collection, I would never allow Thanos to touch you."

Reflexively, Gamora's hands flew to his chest. Her startled fingers sought to distance his body from her own. Before she could shove him way, Tivan caught her by the wrists, pinning her palms to his broad chest. He held them tightly, his strength surpassing hers entirely. Even with her cybernetic enhancements, she could not over power the ancient being hovering before her.

"_Tivan?_" She breathed, her voice steeped in confusion.

"When you first brought me the orb all those months ago," he whispered into her olive flesh. "I knew I would eventually have to have you. You are _last_ of the Zehoberei, and such a beautiful specimen at that!"

Gamora released an unexpected laugh. The incredulous nature of the situation, coupled with the alcohol in her system, rendered her mind hazy and disheveled.

"You could not keep in a cage, Tivan," she muttered, sighing as his fingers transversed the curve of her hip. "I would skin you alive."

"Doubtful," he returned, his listless voice cryptic. "Besides, I would not keep you in a cage." Tivan pulled his face away from her neck and leveled his eyes with her own. "I would have you chained to my bedside."

All at once, he pressed his lips to hers. She did not fight him, nor did she desire to. A subtle heat had built in her body. The caress of his fingers across her flesh, the smell of his expensive cologne, his superior strength – all had poisoned her mind. Her ability think clearly was obscured by the mounting lust and heady alcohol.

"Consider," he whispered. "Consider how _perfect_ of an exchange it will be. Once you retrieve my artifact for me, I will take you into my custody. Your safety will be ensured, and I too will acquire something I desire. You – the last living proof of your species' existence."

"Was this your plan all along" she countered. "Lure me here then convince me to become part of your zoo?"

"Not all." Pulling away from her, he regarded her sullenly beneath his towering shadow. "This was entirely unplanned. I needed you to retrieve the Xiphos and that is why I urged you to come. This...arrangement we speak of is of mere consequence. I cannot overlook an opportunity to strike a beneficial deal."

_A business man_, Gamora thought, shaking off the liquor induced haze. _A__lways something to be gained. _

In an instant, she wrenched her hands free from his chest. With a swing of her newly liberated palm she planted a firm slap across his face. The impact was just enough distraction for her to squirm away from the wall where he held her. She made a quick dash for the hallway, stopping half way through to steal a final look at him.

"If it wasn't obvious enough already, I decline your offer." She stood straighter, watching him caress his injured jaw from the parlor. "However, I _will_ find the Xiphos. Not for your benefit, Tivan, but to secure the safety of the lives of this galaxy."

Satisfied, she turned from him and took several steps away.

"Wait," he called abruptly, his voice echoing down the hall. "Just...consider it."

Gamora ignored his words, her long tresses shimmering beneath the hallway lights as she disappeared down the corridor.

Tivan chuckled lightly. The dull ache in his jaw and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth was nearly comical. Raising two fingers to his lips, he sampled the damage. The glossy, red liquid sparkled on the tips of his fingers. He massaged it between his thumb and forefinger briefly before wiping the fluid on his tunic.

He _would_ accomplish his aim.

A smile passed across his lips, revealing his blood stained teeth.

_Somehow_.


End file.
